Yesterday, as I was painting Miss M’s 2-year-old toes for the first time, I realized I was introducing her into the world of beauty products. She already insists upon a powdered nose as I’m dusting my own, and she now bears her own Maui Mango, my go-to polish color by OPI. Later, through conversation with my stylist, I realized that what I was really doing was pulling Miss M down into the rut of cosmetics which I seem to have planted myself. For example:

A. I’ve been going to Maui Mango as a stand-by for at least 10 years
B. Clinique’s Glow Bronze has been my only lipcolor for 9 years
C. I’ve added a coat of Hint of Shimmering Sandstone on for 16 years. Yes. Another person could have been born and gained a driver’s license in the amount of time that I’ve worn the same lipgloss. 
D. I still have a pair of jeans in my closet – that I break out when the laundry is high – that were purchased 9 years ago.
E. My favorite pair of sandals are a 2nd gen of the prototype bought 10 years ago this summer. So my average is better on footwear at a 5 year rate. 
F. When I recently cleaned out my drawers, I tossed undies from 15 years ago. There is simply no excuse. 
G. I’ve not had a haircut in 15 years that didn’t include layers of some sort. Small hair victory: there was a season in which I had some streaky highlights. 
Clearly, I’m in need of being beautified to the standards of, oh, this decade. Century, in some cases. Here’s what I believed happened: I went to college and lived with some cute girls who beautified me. I graduated college happy with “my look.” For the next 10 years I continued to think, “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it.” Then I blinked and saw everyone wearing skinny jeans, making my bootcut the New Mom Jean. The blinking turned to crying. Smearing my Glow Bronze down my chin. 
Now if someone can offer a solution that doesn’t require me spending a lot of money in order to not look like 2001, I’d appreciate it. 
*This blog was in no way sponsored by What Not To Wear. But if the shoes still fit… 
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